Thursday 16th July

Visited the Prado today, not just an impressive collection but also an impressive building and very easy to navigate, particularly with the audio guide. I decided that El Greco was my favourite, way ahead of his time, however the range of artists and the quality of work to our uneducated eyes was all good.

After siesta (we learn quickly) and bubbles drinks, took Lesley to the market we found the other day beside the Plaza Mayor, it really buzzed at night and we bought some of the special ham off the bone and ate it for dinner whilst talking to a range of locals and fellow tourists. It really is a very social place and quite an experience.

Friday 17th July, separation day
(please excuse spelling and format errors, as not only do we have key board problems but I have also lost temporally my proof reader who picks up my dyslexic errors)

Today we went our separate ways for a week, so separate posts (if Michele has the facility to do so).

I took the plane to Geneva for my tour de France experience, and arrived to a wet and cool city, quite a contrast to Madrid. For a banking centre with plenty of “private banks” it has very few ATM’s as I discovered. I walked for miles and got thoroughly drenched in the process before I found one and had was able to get the currency of the country (Switzerland still has francs and not euros, although you seem to be able to use both). The weather broke in the early evening and I took a walk along the lake.

I was surprised by the population mix, it may have been the district I walked in but the overwhelming proportion was Middle Eastern and Muslim, with a smattering of sub continentals and North Africans. In an hour I only passed one European family and one European girl, until I got back quite close to the hotel.

The Tour Experience

I will merge the next few days into one blog.

On Saturday I picked up the car (this time from Europecar) and drove from Geneva into France to Besancon, some 180 km to see the finish of stage 14. Not an easy drive as it was still wet and cool, thankfully clearing up as I arrived. It turned out that the finish was well on the other side of town so rather than having to navigate through the town and then finding somewhere else to park I decided to walk part of the way and catch a bus.

It became very evident what having the tour pass through your town or city means to them, quite a major event. Finally found the finish (after missing the stop as the driver did not announce it as promised) which was located in a cutting in the freeway which gave it an amphitheatre like feeling.

A real carnival atmosphere, lots of noise, caravans selling memorabilia and clothing, and sponsors handing out caps, whistles, balloons, and product samples. I positioned myself 150 metres from the finish so that I could watch the big screen located there.

Ian Murray had told me about the caravan, however I had really not appreciate how lengthy and carnival like it would be.

I just so wish Ian could have been here with me as we had planned. It really makes one realise you should live life to the full whilst you have the chance.

As I fully expected, the arrival of the riders was almost an anti climax as today there was no real sprint due to the breakaways. It was exciting enough though.

I managed to get a view of the presentations albeit through a security fence. A minor highlight, or incident anyway, was that an interloper managed to get back stage and present himself on stage as a guernsay recipient, to great cheers, before being virtually thrown off the stage.

A bonus when I got back to the car and went looking for a WC before the long drive home, in that I came across the hotel where the teams were staying and walked amongst the busses and watched the mechanics at work (and the clothes been washed). The buses are a very interesting set up, part work shop and part laundry and I guess massage station. I gather the riders have a mini bus for transport.

The drive home was easier as the weather was now fine and warm, but 360 km in one day left me pretty tired and when I got back and finally found a car park I was too buggered to think about dinner.

Transferred to Chamonix on Sunday morning, a pretty easy drive, and found my hotel without too much fuss (I may have taken the wrong exit). It’s on the edge of town but clean comfortable and very friendly.

In the early afternoon crossed back into Switzerland to Martingy to see the tour pass through. A different atmosphere to a finish as most of the spectators were locals and it was naturally less crowded. I noticed an Aussi flag on a bridge so went there and saw the tour pass with a South Australian couple who, like me, were staying in Chamonix with a view of travelling each day to see the stage and moving on to Paris on Friday. Great minds think alike. Walked into the centre of town where the sprint had been and there was a big screen there so I saw all the final climb, which I gather no SBS watchers did form the blogs.

Similarly at dinner I sat next to two 30 something Americans also doing the same (trip). It transpired they had been room-mates at college and as both were bike riders were using the experience to get re acquainted.

Monday was a rest day so I spent it sightseeing, which is not difficult as the scenery here is so magnificent that it’s almost indescribable.

Due to a communication error I went up a cable car to a mountain top east of town thinking I was going to a glacier, no matter as it was fantastic anyway.

Next took the train (you would reckon I would know the difference between a train and a cable car) to the glacier, which has retracted considerably and was a bit of a letdown.

Finally made it to the Midi cable car which takes you up to a mountain top where you can ogle Mount Blanc closer up (I can see it from my bedroom window). Once we got there they told us it would be over two hours before we could descend again, however this did not matter as it was quite a complex with multiple viewing platforms. It was also the stopping off point for those who were going to climb the mountain and I was surprised about the number who set off so late in the afternoon, obviously to camp over night so as to get an early start. There were a group of Aussies on one of the bikestyle tours (but not the one I bailed out of) on the gondolier who it turned out when I got back to my hotel, were staying in the hotel next door. Although it has a bar it is apparently it is not as good as mine.

As it was a lovely fine day the views were spectacular and I took over 100 photos, I will be able to get my own back on Phil when I return and Insist he look at every one of them.

Tuesday was always to be my big day as I intended to see the top of the final climb at the Col de petite Bernard.

This involved going through the Mont Blanc tunnel, some 11.4 km between France and Italy. The return toll was 41 euro, and it is regulated so that each vehicle is about 300m behind the one in front. This is achieved by a series of lights on the sides of the tunnel and you have to keep two blue lights behind.

Again my google maps instructions let me down and I missed my exit just outside the tunnel, and the next one was some 40 k down the motorway. However sometimes it all comes together and I found that to get back to where I wanted to, was in fact the tour route for the day. So I got to “ride” the route.

As I hoped I was able to get as far as La Thuile before they closed the road, which left me 13 km or so short of the summit (and an extra km or so from where I was able to park the car).

It took about 2 ½ hours, and a climb of 700 m before I reached the top. The closer I got the more spectators there were. I have never seen so many cyclists in my life. There must have been over ten thousand (or at least it seemed so).

Many rode to the top and then down again to where they wished to see the race from. Thousands also like me walked and thousands more had driven up either the day before, or possibly very early in the morning (I believe they closed the rode at 8.00am). I now know why you have to book a campervan at least a year ahead.

I had not expected the top to be a small ski lift site with several hotels. Bit of a bugger that, as I had chosen to carry food rather than my binoculars.

Once I made it to the top (there is Photo evidence) I decided to await the race back about a km where from a hillock you could see about 2 km of approach including, right in front, one of those zig-zag bits so popular on tv. By chance two guys from Brisbane came and sat behind me.

Again the caravan took about 40 minutes to pass, plenty of noise, car horns, car chimes (in the tour jingle form), bells ringing, crowd shouting and cheering (some of whom by this stage really full of cheer). Many are dressed up and I actually photographed the devil on the way up. Some of the cow bells were massive and on huge belts and must have weighed 30 kilos or so. As usual it was gen y who dress up the most, including a couple in life savers right below me. Cars also passed out chalk so that the road can have the names of the riders written on it. I have never seen so many cycle shirts on non cyclists, it a bit like the footy at home with the spectator wearing team jumpers, only more so.

You can see when the race is getting close due to the proximity of the helicopters, and a great cheer went up when the riders came into sight.

Today they were strung out and took quite some time to pass, to both the enjoyment and encouragement of the crowd. It was quite strange to be able to get so close, and to see how young some of them looked. I resisted the temptation to reach out and touch one (naturally) but I was within a metre or so.

Discretion suggested I begin to make my way down before the hordes and I had in fact gone more than a km before the last rider passed, but it didn’t help much as very soon there were cars and vans going both ways and bikes everywhere. Bloody dangerous for a walker so I took to the fields and followed a very rough track under some power lines, as did most of those on foot. Whilst rough and steep at least it was shorter and I only took 1.5 hours to get back to the car (once I found it). As expected there was a lot of traffic on the road and for several kms before the turn off, (either left to France or right, further into Italy), we went at snails pace. This time I went the right way and arrived in the proximity of the tunnel to find that there was a 2 hour queue, good thing I had brought my book.

Home again very tired but totally exhilarated not only the race but the achievement of the climb.